


Fishlips

by calathea



Category: I Want To Go Home! - Korman
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-23
Updated: 2009-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-05 02:00:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calathea/pseuds/calathea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike overhears something about Rudy</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fishlips

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by lynnmonster

Mike was hiding in the shadow of a tree, just beyond the back door of the Silver Lake mess hall. The pounding beat of disco music thudded through the wall of the building. Mike glanced down at his wrist, clicking the button on the side of his watch to light up the face. 8:57. Rudy was supposed to meet him at 9:00 exactly.

He peered through the window on the side of the building at Rudy, still burning up the dance floor. In fact, he could see nothing of Rudy except the occasional outflung hand in the midst of a frenetic crowd of girls. Any minute now though, Rudy would quietly disentangle himself from the group, sneak out the back door, and together they would make a run for freedom from the horror that was summer camp.

The back door crashed against the wall, and three giggling girls rushed out in a little knot.

"Shit!" Mike muttered under his breath. He checked his watch again. 8:59. He sank further back into the shadows - he was trapped.

"Oh my GOD! Did you see how he dances? And did you see him running this afternoon? I am so glad they let us do a co-ed sports day this year!" said a blonde girl, fluffing up her hair.

"And those short little shorts he wears... Oh, wow!" one of her friends replied. She and the blonde squealed.

The third girl was putting on lipstick, looking in a little mirror. She snapped it shut, flipped her hair over her shoulder, and announced "My sister Lizzie kissed him at last year's Silver Lake-Camp Algonkian dance."

The other two screamed and grabbed at her. "Lizzie kissed Rudy Miller?"

"Didn't I tell you two?" asked the third girl, flipping her hair again. Mike hated hair flippers. Her friends were squealing again and almost jumping up and down at this news. "She was dancing with him, and when he went outside to cool off, she went with him."

"Did his skinny little friend come too?" asked the blonde girl. "Pete? Dave? Rick? Whatever the heck his name is?"

Mike felt his face heat up. The only problem with being Rudy's friend, apart from regular garbage duty, was that no matter who you were, when you stood next to him, girls just thought of you as Rudy Miller's nameless skinny little friend.

"No, he was still being followed by one of the counselors." The hair flipper wasn't pleased about being interrupted. "Lizzie went outside with Rudy, and told him she wanted to kiss him."

"No way! She did not!" The other two girls were stunned. "What did he say?"

Mike could have chorused the answer along with the hair-flipper. "He said 'I don't kiss.' So she kissed him anyway."

In the shadows, Mike rolled his eyes. The clones were always telling them to behave themselves around the girls during the Silver Lake dances. As if it were the boys who were the problem.

The hair-flipper was drawing out the suspense now. Her friends were begging her to tell them what had happened next. "C'mon Tiffany! You have to tell us!"

Tiffany hesitated. "I'm not sure that Lizzie would like me to be going round telling people this stuff..." She smirked at her friends. "But if you guys promise not to tell anyone..."

The other girls were promising feverishly. Tiffany leaned closer. "He was AWFUL," she stage-whispered. "Lizzie said it was like kissing a fish!"

"A fish! What kind of fish?" The third girl seemed to be an even bigger idiot than her friends. "Like a goldfish?"

The back door of the mess hall banged open again, revealing a frowning female clone. Surprised, Mike took a step back, his foot landing on a pinecone. He flailed wildly as the pinecone rolled under his shoe, his arms flapping helplessly. Suddenly, just as he thought he was going to fall and alert the counselor to his presence, ruining their escape plans, he was grabbed from behind, his surprised squeak smothered by a hand clapped over his mouth.

Mike and his mystery assailant staggered while Mike struggled to find his balance. "Ungh! Mmmrp!" Mike said, urgently.

"Shut up, they'll hear!" hissed a familiar voice into his ear.

"What are you girls doing out here?" the Silver Lake counselor was demanding to know, beckoning to the three girls. "Come back inside."

With one last toss of her hair, Tiffany led the way back into the mess hall, closely followed by her friends. As they left, Mike overheard the dim girl still asking plaintively, "But what kind of fish does Rudy Miller kiss like? And how does she know?"

The hand over Mike's mouth muffled the noise as he started to laugh. The arm around his waist pulled him further into the shadows under the trees.

Mike pulled Rudy's hand away from his mouth, and asked, his voice still shaking with laughter, "Well, Rudy, what kind of fish?"

Rudy's voice was as calm as ever. "I told her I don't kiss girls." He started to tug Mike in the direction of the road leading out of camp, his arm still warm around Mike's waist.

"Well, she's a twit. And you always say that." Mike grinned at Rudy in the darkness. "You probably have trophies for kissing at home too."

"Are we escaping? Or talking about kissing?" Rudy sighed, dropping his arm away from Mike.

"We can't do both?" Mike said, snickering. They were on the dirt road now, skirting around the circles of light shining out of the cabins nearest the path.

"Not efficiently." Rudy broke into a slow jog.

Mike trotted along behind Rudy. He remembered the comments from the girls, drooling over Rudy in the track events this morning. Little did they know Rudy had only agreed to take part because he had a cunning plan to make his exit during the cross-country run. Mike had panted his way round the trail on Rudy's heels - well aware that Rudy was running slowly so he could keep up. Unfortunately for their plans, the clones had run a sort of relay race alongside the two of them, a different one escorting them over a section of the trail. Eventually Rudy, after a murmured word to Mike, had sped away to win the race, his long legs settling into a fast, easy stride. Mike was left in the dust, watching his friend vanish along the wooded path with resigned admiration

They reached the fence ringing the camp. It was tall, and there was barbed wire at the top. The gate was firmly closed.

"Alcaltraz," sighed Rudy. "Do you have wire clippers with you?"

"Of course not!" exclaimed Mike, "Why would I have wire clippers at a dance? In fact, why would I have wire clippers at all?"

Rudy looked at him sadly. "Preparation is the key." While Mike spluttered, Rudy turned away and began walking slowly back towards the main part of camp. "Today is clearly not a good day for escaping."

Mike caught up with him. "So, what kind of fish?" he asked again, to get his own back for the thing with the clippers.

Rudy ignored him.

"A guppy!" Mike exclaimed, "Or, one of those puffer fish. Did you do this when you kissed her?" He blew his cheeks out.

Rudy walked a little faster, then veered off the path on a diagonal line towards the mess, through a small stand of trees. They were close enough to the mess for the light to reach them dimly. The muffled music playing inside seemed to be a slow song.

Mike, laughing, jogged to catch up to Rudy. Just as he drew level, Rudy grabbed his arm and swung him round, up against a broad old tree. "Hey!" Mike grinned at Rudy. "It's just a joke!"

Rudy pushed him back against the tree again. He was close enough now that the couple of inches difference in their heights was more obvious. Mike looked up at him. "Aww, c'mon Rudy. I'm just kidding around. You know I think those girls are twits. She's probably the one with fish lips."

Rudy said nothing, but leaned even closer to Mike. So close now.

"Rudy…?" breathed Mike. Warm lips touched his, very gently, just a soft brush. Mike spread his fingers out against the rough surface of the tree, his fingers curling into the furrows of bark.

Rudy shifted, his right hand coming to rest lightly alongside Mike's hip. This time, he lingered, kissing with a little more pressure, his tongue sliding out to touch Mike's bottom lip. The he pulled away.

Mike looked at him, dumbfounded. Rudy's normal calm was noticeably absent. He looked hot - half-embarrassed, half-excited, his lips shinier than usual. Rudy ran a hand through his hair, leaving him unusually ruffled.

"So, you tell me -- what kind of fish, Mike?" he asked.

"She's a TWIT!" replied Mike, grinning.

Rudy's face cracked into a smile. He moved closer again, leaning in. Just as Mike caught his breath, the background music suddenly stopped and a voice screamed out "STOP THE MUSIC! Miller's gone! MILLER'S GONE!" and a thundering herd of clones rushed out of the mess hall.

Mike cracked up, and Rudy rolled his eyes, stepping away from his laughing friend.

They started to stroll towards the mess hall casually, ignoring the splashing sounds as clones unfamiliar with the terrain discovered the lake.

Rudy glanced over at Mike as they approached the mess hall door. "You know," Rudy said, his lips still curled in a half smile, "There may be things to do at camp that are even more fun than escaping."


End file.
